


Queendom

by trustsalvatore



Category: Legacies (TV 2018), The Originals (TV), The Originals (TV) RPF, The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV), The Vampire Diaries - L. J. Smith
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Parent Klaus Mikaelson, Protective Hope Mikaelson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustsalvatore/pseuds/trustsalvatore
Summary: in which a tribrid falls in love with an angel-HOPE MIKAELSON STARED BLANKLY at her screen, part of her wondering if what she was doing was the right thing. There were plenty of teenagers at Salvatore Boarding School, plenty of kids who she could speak to and connect with without having to risk her life and the exposure of supernatural creatures to the human world; but no one at Salvatore Boarding School would be willing to talk to her.She was a tribrid, the first of her kind. The daughter of Niklaus Mikaelson, the villain of the supernatural world, and the devil himself. Anyone she came across at the school wanted to kiss her or kill her, and Lizzie Saltzman had made that clear.She had used a fake name. She could protect her identity, and no one would have to know who she truly was. She could create the person that she wanted to be, build the life that she wanted to have. No one would have to know that she was the bastard orphan from Mystic Falls. No one would have to know anything.'Hey,' Hope typed out, her fingers shaking as the glided across the screen. 'I'm Hope. It's nice to meet you.'-[ legacies - alternate universe ]
Relationships: Alaric Saltzman - Relationship, Danielle Rose Russell - Relationship, Elijah Mikaelson & Finn Mikaelson & Klaus Mikaelson & Kol Mikaelson & Rebekah Mikaelson, Elijah Mikaelson - Relationship, Finn Mikaelson - Relationship, Hope Mikaelson & Josie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson & Klaus Mikaelson, Hope Mikaelson & Lizzie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson & Penelope Park, Hope Mikaelson & Rebekah Mikaelson, Hope Mikaelson/Original Character(s), Hope Mikaelson/Original Female Character(s), Klaus Mikaelson - Relationship, Kol Mikaelson - Relationship, Landon Kirby - Relationship, Legacies - Relationship, Lizzie Saltzman - Relationship, Rebekah Mikaelson - Relationship, The Originals - Relationship, The Vampire Diaries - Relationship, josie saltzman - Relationship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	1. statera, virginia

HERE'S THE THING: Angel Nguyen lived just about the most average life you could ever come across. She lived in Statera, Virginia, a town where most everyone knew everyone. There wasn't a town event you could go to without finding someone that you went to school with for at least a year. It was a small town, but it was safe, and that was all that ever mattered to the Nguyens.

Angel let out a heavy sigh, eyes scanning her biology classroom for anything to entertain herself with. It was June, which meant that it was nearly time for summer to begin. Unfortunately, it seemed that none of her teachers had gotten the memo. Each and everyone of them had chosen to give their classes a review of everything they'd learn throughout the years, regardless of the fact that there wasn't a single student in that classroom who wanted to lift a finger in the Virginia heat.

Her attention slowly landed on Clara, a girl she'd met in the second grade. She tucked her light brown hair behind her ear, crystal blue eyes staring at their biology teacher with boredom. Slowly, the girl turned her head, eyes meeting Angel's with a sort of unexpected delight.

If she were being honest, it was a surprise that she'd even turned her head. The two girls had been on and off since the eighth grade, when Clara had finally decided that coming out would be the best option for the two of them. Unfortunately, she'd changed her mind and found herself interested in Anthony Madera instead. Angel nodded in her direction, acknowledging the contact, before turning her attention back to her paper, which had been covered in lazy scribbles and lipstick stains from when she'd found herself falling asleep during class.

She turned her head to her desk mate, Steven, a boy she'd known since in the eighth grade. Watching as his eyes glided across the paper in front of him, she rolled her eyes. "You're not listening to a word he's saying, are you?"

He looked up from his paper, exhausted eyes meeting hers. He'd been developing dark circles under his eyes for years now, and there wasn't a day that Angel could recall in which he hadn't complained about his sleep deprivation and strange coffee dependency. "What do you think?"

Steven slid a bottle of Sprite out his backpack, nearly throwing it across their desks in a lazy effort to get it to her. "Drink up. You'll need the energy if you're going to survive the rest of exam week. I heard that Alkatraz is giving us another test before finals."

"He already gave us one last week. What does he need to give us another one for?" Angel furrowed her brows, brushing her slightly oily silver locks out of her face.

"JV said he needed to raise his grade up to a D before the end of the semester. Must've felt bad for him," Steven muttered. "How he managed to get a D in that class, I'll never fucking know."

Angel let out a sigh, fingers reaching for her phone in an effort to check the time. 10:44. Three minutes until the end of the class. "Are we going to the fair this week? Alaina said that her dad would give us the car if we needed it."

"Alaina's dad would give us the Empire State Building if we asked for it." Steven responded sharply, taking off his black rectangular glasses so he could see his phone better.

She frowned at his comment. There were moments where she did feel bad for Alaina's dad. When she was younger, Alaina's dad had developed an alcohol dependency. When he'd finally recovered from it, he'd left Alaina and her mother to start a new family in Ohio. He came back to Statera a few years ago, tried to apologize to Alaina and tried showering her with presents to try and make up for it, but it was clear that Alaina wouldn't have any of it. She took what she could from him, though. In her eyes, if she couldn't have a father figure, she could at least have the money that came with it.

"You think Jaime's coming too?" Angel asked as she reached for her own phone, milky white fingertips sliding across the screen in an effort to look through her current notifications. "He should be, right? His step-dad hasn't been that much of an asshole lately."

"Jaime's step-dad is always an asshole. It just depends on whether or not Jay catches him at a good time." Steven handed the phone off to her. "Here, just type the plans into the groupchat. I should be good, so he's the only person we're waiting on."

Before she could even type in a letter, the bell started to ring. She gave Steven an exasperated look and he simply nodded, taking his phone back and acknowledging that he would have to type the plans out of himself. She grabbed hold of her things and threw them in her bag, sighing as she left the classroom. There were five more hours left in the day, and she would be absolutely delighted when they were over.

-

The end of Angel Nguyen's school days usually consisted of finishing up her homework and locking herself in the room for the rest of the day. They did not usually consist of random people on Instagram trying to speak to her without even knowing her last name.

'Hey, I'm Hope. It's nice to meet you.' The message read. It had come from an absolute stranger on Instagram, a girl, who had zero followers and followed zero people. When she'd first found it, she'd automatically assumed it was a bot; but bots didn't look like this.

The girl, seemingly named Hope, was gorgeous. She seemed to be around Angel's age, likely fifteen or sixteen. Her hair was dark auburn, curly with hints of light brown in her locks. She'd mostly posted pictures of books or paintings, with only about three photos of her actual face having made its way onto her profile. Despite this, she was absolutely captivating. Her eyes were an odd mix of green and blue, bewitching Angel through the screen despite the heavy gray filter Hope had placed upon her photos.

Crazy as it sounded, Angel wanted to respond. She wanted to know who this girl was-- this girl that had reached out to her despite the fact that they didn't know each other, this girl that had sent her seven words and caused her to lose track of time and priorities for the day. She knew that this could be dangerous--that for all she knew, this was a sixty-year-old man lying on his couch, awaiting the next stupid teenage girl that decided to respond to his Instagram messages.

But she'd reverse-image-searched every photo on Hope's profile. She'd searched through every search engine for even a hint that this was a girl whose photos had been stolen from another website, and still, she'd found nothing.

This girl, Hope--whoever she was--, she was real. She was out there and she was reaching out, and if Angel didn't act now, she'd miss out on it.

'hey, i'm angel. it's nice to meet u, too.'


	2. headmaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope gets sick of fighting with Alaric Saltzman's daughters.

HOPE WOKE THE NEXT day with a pounding headache for the day to come. She would have to train with Alaric later today, and while that had once been one of her favorite pastimes, it had faded as a result of her need to be more careful with him. Alaric Saltzman, strong as he was, was still a human--a human going against a tribrid, at that.

She took a breath, blue eyes landing on the smartphone on her nightstand. She’d made a bad decision the night before. A decision that she wasn’t even sure would have an end result. Part of her wondered why she was so scared to check her notifications; Angel had had over a thousand followers already. She had no reason to answer any of Hope’s texts, regardless of how presentable she’d made her page look.

The other part of her knew exactly why she was afraid to check, and it was simply, really. She didn’t want to check, because what if she had answered the text? What would she do then? She’d already gotten Landon Kirby in enough trouble a few months ago. Could she bring herself to do that to another human being? How could she expect herself to save a stranger from the dangers of the supernatural world when she couldn’t even protect her own family?

If she’d grabbed the phone now--if she’d taken it from the nightstand and deleted her profile--it wouldn’t be too late. She could still save her. She could still protect her from whatever monstrous enemies her family had made all those centuries ago. There was still time.

“Hope?” There was knocking on the other side of the door, the voice of Alaric greeting her for their early morning training. Hope’s eyes widened as the door began to creak open. Immediately, she waved her hand, the door slamming shut and creating a border between her and Alaric. “Hope, is something going on?”

‘No, sir, just the fact that I’m contacting the mortal world as a result of your sociopathic daughters trying to ruin my life,’ Hope thought.

“I’ll be out in a bit! I just… uh, I have to take care of some stuff!” It was a simple lie. Tribrid as she was, she was still a teenage girl. Even Alaric Saltzman, Headmaster of Salvatore Boarding School and father of Lizzie and Josie Saltzman, didn’t have the nerve to question that. “Do you think I could just meet you out there?”

She set her phone down on her nightstand, running a hand through her burgundy curls. In the few years that she’s stayed at the school, she’d never once been late to training with Alaric, let alone missed a session. This girl, this mortal girl, had already begun to disrupt the routine Hope had abided by for years, and in truth, Hope wasn’t sure whether or not it was a bad thing.

“Actually, I think I need to talk to you face-to-face. Could you unlock the door, Hope?”

Hope sighed and waved her hand again, swinging the door open to reveal Alaric Saltzman on the other side. She sat up, arms folded over her chest as she invited him into the dorm. The door slowly opened, creaking, before Alaric entered the room. His aged blue eyes fixated on her young ones and he greeted her with a nod. He glanced around the room, shutting the door behind him to give the two privacy from supernatural ears.

“You don’t let a lot of light into this room, do you?” He was right. Her dorm room was a mixture of dark green and brown, and despite having two windows, she’d never completely drawn either of them. She’d never had an issue with it.

Alaric looked back up at her with a tired look on his face, and for a moment, she’d sworn she’d never seen him look more disheveled. He took a step toward her, carefully placing himself on the edge of the bed as not to startle her.

“What is it, Alaric? Tell me.” Hope could feel her heartbeat speeding up now. Something had happened, hadn’t it? To her Aunt Freya, or Aunt Rebekah, or Uncle Kol--quite possibly anyone she cared about. When Alaric didn't respond, the words slipped from her mouth. “Did something happen to my family?”

Of course something had. She was a Mikaelson, and ancient history had proved once and for all that Mikaelsons did not get happy endings. Her father had died to save her; her mother and her uncle, Elijah, were no exceptions to this fate.

“No. Nothing happened to your family, Hope. They're just fine,” He paused, insinuating that something had, in fact, happened; it was just a matter of who it happened to.

He broke eye contact, taking sudden interest in Hope's hardwood flooring. His golden brown looked as if he hadn't trimmed it in months, something that his daughter, Lizzie, would have pushed him to do if he hadn't been focused on something else.

“There have been attacks in West Virginia, South Carolina, Kentucky, and Tennessee. Animal attacks, it seems, but no one has enough memory to figure out what happened to them,” Alaric claimed. “I wouldn't be concerned about it, but there have been plenty in each state, and they all surround one specific area.”

“Vampires, Alaric. So what?” Hope raised her eyebrows. Supernatural beings and ‘animal attacks,’ as humans called them, had been existent since the Original Vampires were born. It was likely the result of a newly-turned vampire switching off their humanity. “We’re at a school filled with supernatural creatures--we can defend ourselves.”

“What? With another death spell?”

She flinched. In the months after her mother’s passing, she’d searched through plenty of grimoires to find dark spells, and she hadn’t stopped until she’d found the right one. Alaric had found it a few days later.

“That was a mistake,” She sneered, blue irises shifting to a golden yellow. Her jaw began to ache as her canines grew longer, sharpening into points. “Get out.”

There it was. That look of disappointment on Alaric’s face, the same one he’d given her the day he’d found the spell. The same one he’d given her the day she’d turned her first hybrid. He got up slowly, as if waiting for her to tell him to stop, and he left the room. Hope watched as the door shut, her eyes fading back to a deep blue.

In the weeks before her mother died, she’d used her blood to turn a boy, Henry Benoit, into a hybrid. He'd paid her off, giving her money that she would eventually use in an effort to see her father. She and her mother had tried to keep him alive, but what happened hadn't been her fault. It couldn't have been. He’d asked for it. People only deserve grief when what they died for wasn't their fault.

She wasn't quite sure how it happened. How she'd gone from glaring at the door to reaching for her cell phone, but she was sure that she was now texting Angel back, and she was sure that Angel was responding.

‘How’s your day going?’ Hope asked.

‘Just got out of algebra class. As it turns out, my father's unlimited knowledge of mathematics was not genetic.’

Hope could feel her throat beginning to tighten. ‘That sucks. I just had a chat with my uncle. Said I was in trouble for something personal.’

‘Damn, I'm sorry. A cute girl like you doesn't deserve that. Mind if I ask what happened?’

‘It's stupid, honestly. I made a mistake a few months ago and he doesn't seem to want to let it go.’ Part of her wondered what he would do when he found out about this one.


	3. nguyen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel gets to know Hope, and gets sick of living in the same town for the rest of her life.

ANGEL NGUYEN DIDN'T SPEAK unless she was spoken to. It was a rule that she'd learned when she was younger and her aunts and uncles would make fun of her for speaking out of turn. Over time, she'd developed a habit of keeping quiet whenever she met new people. It kept her out of trouble, and that was all she could really ask for.

It seemed, however, that these rules did not apply when she was talking to Hope.

'Good morning,' she'd sent at precisely 8:03 AM. She had learned absolutely nothing about the Salvatore School in the past week that she'd been speaking to Hope, but eight o'clock was her best bet. It wouldn't look as if she was trying hard to keep talking to her, and it made it seem as if talking to Hope was just a passing thought. In truth, she'd been planning out texting Hope for the past two hours. Every possible message she typed out just seemed wrong. There were too many ways that Hope could respond badly, which she hadn't done so far, but Angel wasn't going to risk it.

Around five minutes later, Hope sent a message greeting her hello. 'Good morning to you, too. How's your day so far?'

'My biology teacher has found a way to mispronounce my last name every single time he reads it for roll,' Angel texted back with a slight chuckle. 'At this point, it's kind of a game.'

'That's genuinely saddening to hear. How many weeks do you have left of school? Like, three?' Hope texted back. 'Have you ever corrected him?'

'I'm not sure I want to anymore? Not to sound like a complete sadist, but hearing the variations of Nguyen is kind of interesting to hear. I guess that's what I get for living in such a small town.'

'If you want I can take you out of it,' Hope sent back with a smile. 'How does New Orleans sound?'

Truth be told, Angel hadn't really given much thought into leaving her hometown, let alone the state of Virginia. She'd always figured she'd live the life everyone else had. Brick Church Elementary School, Forsythe Middle School, Statera Central High School, and the community college down the road. It'd been planned out since she was in the fifth grade, and she'd never really found a reason to leave.

'You're from New Orleans? I thought you went to Salvatore School.'

'I do,' Hope quickly responded. 'But I was born and raised in the French Quarter in New Orleans. It's my mother's birthplace and my dad really loved it there. Salvatore School is just this boarding school that my mom wanted me to go to. She thought it would be good for me.'

She'd heard all about the Salvatore Boarding School. Mystic Falls was more than an hour's drive away, but she'd heard stories about it. How it was a boarding school with a horrible football team-one so bad that the flag football players at Central were begging the coach to play against them purely for the cheap win-and how all of the students that went there were troubled and rich. She couldn't really imagine Hope being apart of that. They'd really only been speaking for the better part of a week, but it felt like they'd known each other for centuries. Like they were connected somehow.

Maybe she'd just been reading too many romance novels. Mr. DeCurtio never could take a step away from the Shakespeare.

'Well, maybe one day you can take me,' Angel sent with a winky face before turning her phone off and sliding it back under her textbook. She turned her head to face the window, only to meet the eyes of an already-staring Clara Davenport. Clara went to send her a smile but Angel quickly turned to look at her textbook, counting the minutes until the bell finally rang.

At precisely 9:18, she slipped out of the classroom and headed to her locker down the hall. Hope had been spamming her with paragraphs about her favorite cooking shows while she was away, but she excused herself around 9:00 because she'd had fight training and she couldn't risk getting caught with a cell phone. Apparently her uncle had slipped her one before she went back to the boarding school a few months ago and she'd kept it ever since. The kids at the boarding school weren't allowed to have cell phones, and if they did, it was because they were on a school trip and they were the headmaster's 'trusted advisor.'

As she went to put her things away and head to her fourth period, she was stopped by the sight of Jake Rosenthal blocking her locker. She narrowed her eyes at him and motioned for him to move, to which he obliged. "For the love of all that is good, Jake, this had better not be another party invitation."

"Well, someone's mad," Jake muttered, standing by her locker door as she put her things away. "You should know that you can't skip journalism for a week straight under the excuse that you get migraines every time you're about the enter the classroom. Ernesto doesn't buy it and, frankly, I'm pretty sure he's one absence away from hunting you down and pulling you out of your fourth period."

He took a step forward. "So, why don't you tell me what's up?"

"So, why don't you back up?" Angel snapped, slamming her locker door shut and moving closer. Jake took a step back, knowing better than to test her in moments like this. Though, he should have known better than to step too close to her.

Angel had actually had a good excuse for skipping class, which didn't happen too often. She was known for doing it during her more boring classes, heading out the back door of the library to walk home or hang out with Steven; but she'd actually enjoyed Mr. Ernesto's class, and was kind of upset that she had to skip it as often as she did. But every time she'd tried to go, she'd get some sort of sickness.

Last class, she'd gotten nauseous two minutes before the late bell and had to run to the bathroom to avoid pissing off the janitors. Two days prior to that, she'd developed a migraine towards the end of fourth period and had to ask her mother to pick her up from school. She'd always had a teacher or student give Ernesto a pass, but admittedly, she'd be just as frustrated if she were in his position.

"So, what, are you skipping school today, too?" Jake asked as she went to turn around. He sped up his pace and blocked her movement. He wasn't going to give up. "You know, you can just tell me. It's not like I'm going to spill to everyone that you're skipping school to go smoke weed."

"Bold of you to assume that I leave campus to do that, but all right," Angel muttered under her breath. She sighed and held her hands up. "Look, I'm not feeling sick right now, but I really don't want to risk it, so I'll see you after lunch, Jake."

Just as she ducked under his arms, he yelled out, "Hey!" She groaned and turned to face him one more. "How about we both skip Ernesto's? I mean, we're a week away from finals. There's really no point in going, especially if we're going to pass, anyway."

Jake Rosenthal was a lot of things. The type to skip class was not one of them. Angel had known him since the second grade, when even the slightest mis-interaction with a teacher could send him to the guidance counselor's office. She'd only ever seen him absent a few times a year, usually due to religious holidays that no one really understood nor dared to ask questions about. In hindsight, she should have known that something was off about this interaction.

Still, she agreed. Just like usual, a few minutes before the bell rung signifying the end of fourth period, she'd felt the right side of her forehead grow cold. With minimal hesitation, she headed to Jake's fourth period and they snuck out of the back door, not quite knowing where they were headed. Angel had suggested a few spots where cops weren't likely to question them, like the Duplex or La Ideal, but he'd shut down every idea.

"Well, we can't just wander around like this. We're ten minutes away from the campus and I can assure you that there's a cop car patrolling every neighborhood within a two mile radius," Angel stated.

"I know that." He did not know that. "How about we just go to my house? My mom should be home and we can just hang out in my backyard, if that's cool with you."

Angel had met Annaliese Rosenthal on two separate occasions: the sixth grade moving up ceremony and her DARE graduation. She wasn't sure that she wanted the next time she met her to be in the middle of a school day, in the kitchen with her son.

"Or we could go to the Duplex," Angel suggested again. "They let you use the blender and make milkshakes."

"What's wrong with my place?" He was visibly upset, and part of Angel had actually felt guilty. when she saw it. "My mom doesn't bite, and I'm not going to imprison you or anything."

"I know you're not," She reassured him. "It's just that I don't know if I want to meet her again, especially considering I was eleven the last time I saw her. Too much has changed, and it would just be weird."

That was the worst part living in a town with four elementary schools, three middle schools, and three high schools: everything was predictable.

She watched as the look of hope fell from Jake's face. She hadn't wanted to let him down. It wasn't that she felt like she owed him something--she didn't--but that didn't mean that she enjoyed seeing him upset.

But the hurt washed away in a matter of seconds, being replaced with an emotion she'd never actually seen before.

"It's fine, I get it. But you know, Angel, I've been trying for years to be someone that was there for you when no one else was; but you just don't let people in." He turned back to her, his eyes glassy. "You go to parties and school dances, dancing and pretending that the people around you don't make you feel as lonely as they actually do."

"That's enough," Angel growled. She took a step forward, dark eyes turning cold. "Walk away, Jake, before I do something I regret."

She wouldn't actually have done anything. She wasn't really sure why she'd said that, or how she planned to explain it to Ernesto when he asked why his best student had been absent for the firs time. But she let him walk away, in the direction of the Duplex, while she took the long way home to avoid both trouble and taking her anger out on the nearest stranger.

Later, she found herself texting Hope, after leaving her on delivered for most of the day. She hadn't meant to, but she'd been avoiding her phone out of fear that Clara had tried to send her a message despite being soft-blocked for the better half of three months, and she couldn't turn off the rest of the world with the exception of Hope Marshall. They'd spent the rest of the evening texting, chatting about their favorite shows and who would be most likely to fall off the Eiffel Tower because they were too busy on their phones to notice.

She liked the anonymity that came with talking to Hope. She didn't have to talk about friends at school, or what her day was like, or what family issues she had. She didn't have to be the troubled teenage girl that was Angel Nguyen. She could just be Angel.

So when she found herself sending Hope the following message, she didn't quite remember what had been going through her mind. She just knew she wanted something more than a phone screen.

'So, when do I get to see you in person?'


	4. a dream of spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Salvatore School's most prized possession is a map that glows, showing the state's population of supernatural creatures. Why is it that there's one town in the middle of Virginia that has a population of zero?

HOPE MIKAELSON HAD BEEN away from her phone when she'd received that message. She'd stuffed her phone under her pillow and headed Alaric's office to discuss things with the Salvatore School's Honor Board. They were still trying to solve the issue with the vampires, and Hope had been able to come up with a board to track supernatural creatures specifically within the state of Virginia.

As she made her way to the office, she was abruptly stopped by Lizzie Saltzman. Hope sighed, stepping around her and continuing to walk. As Lizzie continued to follow, she gave in. "What is it, Lizzie?"

"I just want you to know that just because you made this map for my dad, it doesn't mean you're any better than the rest of us." Lizzie stated, her harassment only continuing. Hope "My dad isn't gonna love you more because you made this for him."

"You know, didn't you lose the honor board election?" Hope asked, turning to face Lizzie. She raised an eyebrow at the blonde witch, only slightly irritated by the fact that Lizzie was still doing her very best to insert herself into the honor board itself. "If you want to add your opinion to all of this, you should probably talk to Josie."

It hadn't been a question. A few months ago, Alaric had created a supernatural honor board: one witch, one werewolf, one vampire. Luckily for Hope, she'd been a mixture of the three factions, so she'd been able to join the honor board without any competitors. Lizzie had run for the witch position, but she'd lost to her sister, Josie, as Josie's ex-girlfriend had campaigned in her honor. It had been humiliating for Lizzie.

Of course, this remark hadn't sat well with Lizzie. Immediately, anger overtook her voice, a tone that would have scared Hope had it been seven years ago when she'd actually feared the blonde Saltzman twin.

"At least I ran for the Honor Board position," Lizzie snapped. "You know there's a difference between a genuine social outcast and someone that isolates themselves because they're scared of social interaction."

Comments like this weren't exactly new. They'd started years ago, when she was nine and her father had decided to stop speaking to her all together. She preferred to be in control of her loneliness. It was easier to surround yourself with nothing but emptiness. You had nothing to lose then.

Of course, Emily, Hope's therapist, had advised against this tactic. It'd only grown stronger in the last two years, when her mother, father, and uncle died all within the span of a month. She'd told Hope that isolating herself only made her feel worse, and it just 'reinforced feelings of guilt' that she obviously didn't deserve. Hope had caught the phrase 'survivor's remorse' in Emily's file a few days ago. She thought it was best not to mention it.

That had always been the rule with Hope. If you didn't mention it, it didn't hurt as much.

Lizzie eventually decided to leave Hope alone. She entered Alaric Saltzman's office, with the map, shutting the door behind her. She gave Alaric an apologetic look. "Sorry I'm late, Dr. Saltzman. I got held up."

'Sorry I'm late, Dr. Saltzman. I got held up texting a really cute girl I'm never going to meet even though she's really freaking cute and I really wish I wasn't such a cosmic mistake so I could kiss her or something.'

"It's fine, Hope," Alaric quickly forgave her. "We've been... keeping ourselves busy."

Hope couldn't imagine the chaotic conversation that'd been occurring before she entered the room. Regardless, she set the map down in front of them, quickly explaining the rules before reaching her hand out to Josie Saltzman. "Don't worry, I'm not going to spell you out of existence."

It was one of the lighter jokes that Hope was capable of making. Josie put her hand in Hope's, repeating after her as the map came to life. A red light glowed between their fingers, a sign that Josie was siphoning Hope's magic. Hope could feel the magic leaving her body and she unhooked their fingers as the map began to glow.

"Hope Mikaelson, back at it again, saving the day," Kaleb muttered under his breath. He was a teenage vampire that had transferred to Salvatore School about a year ago, but he'd gotten used to the routine. "Why'd we have to assemble for this?"

"Because I need your help explaining to the student body why there are armies of vampires sprawling around the east coast," Alaric retaliated. He watched as different marks began to make themselves visible. Some of the marks were scattered, different vampires lurking in different areas of Virginia. But there was a cluster of marks surrounding one specific area. Hundreds, maybe thousands of vampires closing in on one specific town.

"Mystic Falls," Rafael breathed, the information sinking in with the rest of the students. He was a wolf who'd been recruited only a few months ago. Danger like this wasn't something he was used to.

They all looked at each other, trying to read each other's expressions, trying to see if the other knew what was happening. Hope's heart was beating through her chest. She couldn't fight another coven, not this soon. Not when it's only been two years.

Josie looked to her father for advice. "Why Mystic Falls? Why us?"

"Mystic Falls has always been a hot spot for supernatural creatures," Alaric explained. "Supernatural World History, remember?"

Hope had been seven years old when she'd been forced to take that class. She'd been seven years old when she learned the history of the Original vampires. How they'd originated in Mystic Falls, over a thousand years ago when it was still called 'the New World.' How they'd been turned by their mother, Esther, because she wanted her children to be able to protect themselves from harm. How they'd fed on human blood, and how they'd massacred entire villages when they didn't know how to contain their anger.

It's painful being seven years old and not knowing how to defend your own family. Hell, it's painful being seventeen years old and not knowing how to defend your own family.

"Why now?" Hope asked, her finger tracing over the cluster of marks. "It's been decades since anything happened. The Originals don't even live here anymore."

"Maybe it's not about the... Originals themselves." Josie sounded as though she were walking on broken glass. She glanced at Hope's face, searching for any sign of distress before she turned back to the group. "I mean, Mystic Falls had a bunch of supernatural history. This is where the first vampires were created; the first hybrid; the home of the c--" She froze. "The cure."

"The cure?" Rafael questioned, his eyebrows raising in response. "What the hell is the cure?"

It look as though the pieces were all coming together before Alaric's eyes. "The cure for vampirism. It was created in Ancient Greece by a witch named Qetsiyah, meant to be taken by her ex-fiance, Silas--Shouldn't you be learning about this in Introduction to Supernatural History?"

Rafael stared at him with a deadpan expression. "If you can't tell, I've been a bit busy lately."

"Right, sorry," Alaric apologized. "Anyway, the cure is currently in the hands of Damon Salvatore. It's running through his veins right now. It has to be taken by one person at a time. There isn't a lot of it. The next person in line is--"

Hope cut him off before he could get the words out, a horrified expression on her face. "Rebekah Mikaelson." Her aunt. One of the few family members she had left. The woman that had raised her for a portion of her life, who wanted nothing more than to be human. To be mortal. To be vulnerable.

"But why would all of these vampires want to come after the cure if only one person can take it?" Kaleb raised his eyebrows. "Did they not get the memo?"

"Unless they want to destroy it." They all looked up, Hope's words ringing through the air like the sound of a gong.

Two years ago, a group of elitist vampires had tried killing off all of the hybrids in their path. This included Hope, her mother, and a boy she'd turned only a few days prior: Henry Benoit. They'd succeeded in killing Henry and her mother. Perhaps it was the same group. Or worse.

Her eyes scanned the map, watching as the glowing marks drew closer and closer to Mystic Falls. The sounds of the other students and her headmaster grew to be background noise as she noticed a significantly empty space just north of Mystic Falls, the glowing marks surrounding it but never quite touching it. She reached out her porcelain fingers, tracing her hand over the small town, wondering why exactly the supernatural creatures had chosen to avoid the tiny little town of Statera, Virginia.

_____

Hope couldn't stop herself from typing out the next few words, despite being certain that it would only end in heartache. 'Hey, not to sound totally and completely weird, but where did you say you were from again?'

Angel's message came in only a few minutes later, but minutes had felt like hours as Hope's heart beat out of her chest waiting for a response. 'Ah, it's this really small town. You probably haven't heard of it, haha.'

'For your information, I am acing geography. Very upset of your lack of faith in me.'

'Lmao. Okay, I'll tell you the answer to your question as soon as you tell me your answer to mine.'

'What question?' And then it dawned on her. Her breath caught in her throat as she reread the message Angel had sent her earlier that day. When would they be able to meet. 'So we're playing twenty-one questions now?'

'I prefer to call it mutually answering each other's questions. I'm not the type to play games,' Angel responded simply. 'For example, how was your day?'

'It was kind of stressful, honestly. The topic of my parents came up. Sort of. I guess it's easy to forget you're an orphan when you go to a boarding school.'

'I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better? Pictures of cats? Videos of me trying to cook one of those recipes from Food Network and letting you roast me Gordon Ramsey-style?'

A laugh escaped Hope's lips before she could stop it. 'Oh, yeah. Definitely the Gordon Ramsey thing. If I'm going to spend anymore time with you, I need to make sure that you don't lose the lamb sauce.'

Angel sent a row of laughing emojis. 'Seriously though. You're super sweet and super gorgeous. I want to meet you. I know you don't live that far. There's this fair coming to this town thirty minutes away from me, and thirty minutes away from you. Do you think you would come with me?'

She should have pushed her away. She should have said 'no' or ignored the text message. Hell, she should have blocked her the second she read that message. But how was she supposed to push away one of the only people that she could genuinely talk to without being afraid of getting hurt? Of getting left behind?

'I would love to.'


	5. satan's spawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope Mikaelson knew she was the daughter of the infamous Klaus Mikaelson -- descended from a family of monsters. But if they were monsters, what did that make her?

"I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE doing," Josie Saltzman stated. Hope straightened her back, blue eyes turning to ice as she turned to face the fellow witch. "It's not safe to leave the school right now."

Hope shook her head, walking toward her dresser and looking through the jewelry, searching from a particular piece. "What does it matter to you? I'm sure you and your sister would love it if your competition for daddy's attention was finally put to a stop."

"If you go out there and get hurt, my dad is going to suffer more than you realize, and Lizzie's gonna have another episode. You're being selfish," Josie snapped. She took a step inside the room and shut the door behind her. "Why are you doing this?"

"Does it matter?" The Mikaelson daughter turned away from the dresser, looking through the drawers of her nightstand. Stress lines appeared in the young girl's forehead and she searched through her mess of cell phone chargers and ripped-out pages of grimoires. "It's none of your business anyway."

She didn't allow herself to confide in people these days, not anymore. Truth be told, she hadn't even allowed herself to speak with her family members or her therapist, Emily. Whenever they'd asked how she was doing, she'd been able to create the perfect lie. One that they wouldn't bother questioning, because how were you meant to tell an orphan that they weren't allowed to be okay, especially when they were the reason that their parents had died in the first place?

She wouldn't allow herself to open up to Josie Saltzman. She couldn't allow herself to be lied to, or betrayed. Most of all, she couldn't risk losing another loved one because she'd decided to trust the wrong person.

"Look, I'm not doing anything that's really putting the school at risk," Hope hissed. She stopped as she reached the bottom of the drawer, reaching for the Mikaelson pendant buried beneath all of her items. A frown fell upon her face as she ran her fingers over the copper crest, memories of her father's smile making its way through her memory. He'd have given her the world if she'd asked for it. "I couldn't do that."

Josie's expression softened at the sight of Hope Mikaelson in her most vulnerable state. She took a step forward. "You're not your father's daughter. You don't have to be a Mikaelson."

But then, if she wasn't a Mikaelson, who was she? What life would she have been able to create for herself if she'd only been able to keep telling the people around her that her name was Hope Marshall?

⚜️

Hope wasn't quite sure how she'd ended up in the Stefan Salvatore Memorial Library after hours. Everyone had already gone to bed and the lights had been turned off, but there was a key under a squeaky floorboard that Alaric had always forgotten to glue back into place. She'd found herself heading towards Stefan Salvatore's old library, which had been placed behind glass and flipped open to a page in which he talked about his research on the supernatural creatures called Foetoribus Careat. Latin for "Unsullied."

In medieval times, witches in Indochina used magic to created a supernatural species called Foetoribus Careat. The strongest supernatural species known to man. They were created during the Dark Ages in order to forge an unbeatable army, one that would protect castles from raids and invasions. The Foetoribus Careat were unbeatable. They had the strength of a thousand men, moving at a speed faster than even the fastest of supernatural creatures. Nearly unkillable.

The only issue was that after the Dark Ages had passed, the Foetoribus Careat were near impossible to stop. They would kill every man, woman and child that would try to leave the walls of the city. While their purpose had been to protect the people living inside of the city, they had turned into creatures that would kill anyone who lived outside of it.

No one really knows how they died, and the spell to create them was never recovered. People say that it died with a few family bloodlines, who eventually left Indochina on boats, fearing the creatures they'd created would one day turn on their creators. The remaining books of the Foetoribus Careat were left to the attic of the Salvatore School. No witch had ever been able to translate the writings inside of them, and no one had ever been able to find out how exactly the creatures had died out.

Hope reached her hand out, her fingers waving in the air. The pages obeyed her command instantly. They flipped to page thirty-four. 

September 21, 2011 - We're   
trying to find out information   
about a man named Mikael.   
According to history, he's   
supernatural's greatest threat. The   
vampire who hunts vampires. The   
vampire who hunts Original   
vampires. Rebekah and Klaus were   
running from him in 1919. We   
asked Elena why they feared him so   
much, and it seems we have our   
answer. He's their father.

Elena told me and Damon that  
she feels bad for Rebekah. That   
she's "just a girl, who lost her   
mother too young," and maybe she   
is. But Klaus isn't just a boy. He's a   
monster. He turns people into   
monsters. Everything he touches  
becomes poison; it dies. 

She had remembered what her mother had said once. She'd been talking to Aunt Freya, telling the story of how she'd met Mikael. She still remembers her words: "Hope has an advantage that Klaus never had, as sad as it to say; but Hope never met Mikael. She never will."

From the stories, it had been Mikael who was the reason that her father had become a monster. He'd beaten him and tortured him when he was younger, never once treating him the way he'd treated the others, regardless of the fact that at the time, he hadn't known Klaus was a bastard. At the time, he was just another son.

But it couldn't have been fair to blame all of her father's cruelty on his own father. He hadn't been there to tell him to murder innocent humans, he hadn't forced his hand -- he hadn't even been there for most of the events in which Klaus had been the cruelest. And he hadn't changed since he had Hope. He'd always been bloodthirsty and vengeful, going on killing sprees when the smallest thing hadn't gone his way.

Hope had the blood of the Original Hybrid and the husband of the Original Witch. Regardless of how closely she clung onto the teachings of her mother, she would always teeter a little too close to the edge; dance a little too close to madness. She would always have the blood of a Mikaelson. If they were monsters, so was she.

Barely seconds had passed before the Honor Council flooded into the library. It had been Rafael who had spoken first. "Hope, there's something wrong."

He spread the map across the table in front of him. Hope quickly rushed over, spelling the diary to turn to its usual page without calling too much attention to herself. "What's wrong?"

She examined the map closely, only to realize that the golden specks of light on the map, once indicating the activity of the three supernatural species, had darkened to a near black. Only a few golden marks were left on the map, representing the existence of regular supernatural creatures, scattered across the state of Virginia. Naturally, Mystic Falls glowed the brightest.

"Where is Statera?" Kaleb asked. "I've never even heard of that place."

"It's a small town just an hour north," Alaric explained. "It has a population of less than two thousand people. I've never been there myself, but as far as I know, there isn't a lot of supernatural activity."

"Well, according to this, they don't have any supernaturals at all," Hope explained. "Why not?"

A town filled completely with humans, with a population of people that had become so comfortable in their environment that they didn't bother to leave, and those outside didn't bother to visit.

'Angel.' She would have answers, at least a few of them; but from what Hope could tell, she wanted to leave Statera. More than anything; but she'd never spoken of anyone else. She'd mentioned her friends, who wished to attend community colleges within the town, and high school teachers who enjoyed their jobs and had grown up in the town themselves.

"When was the last time that somebody moved there?" Hope asked, raising her eyebrows.

"People probably move there all the time," Josie answered. "It's a quiet suburban town in the middle of nowhere. A low enough crime rate and expensive houses to ensure that their kids don't get hurt."

"Then that would mean a growing population," Alaric quickly shut down his daughter. "The highest the population has gotten is less than five thousand people."

"We should check it out," Rafael pointed out. "See what's going on over there. Why it looks like every supernatural being on the face of the earth is avoiding that place."

"Maybe they just don't know about it," Hope quickly stepped in. "I mean, why would they? It's a small town."

"A small town filled with people to eat," Josie cut her off. "Vampires have existed for over a thousand years, werewolves and witches for even longer."

Alaric nodded, agreeing. "Josie's right. Supernaturals are strong enough to massacre entire villages if they're in a bad mood. Small towns like this, especially so close to Mystic Falls, shouldn't even exist."

Hope crossed her arms, scoffing. "So what? We visit the one town that isn't causing any problems? We cause an army of vampires to follow us and then we get the entire town slaughtered -- is that really what we're trying to do?"

"Why are you so against this?" Kaleb raised his eyebrows. "Last time I checked, you're always first to volunteer for a road trip."

"Not when it can cause the death of two thousand innocent people," Hope hissed. "I'm not going; and if you care even the smallest bit for the people in that town, you wouldn't go either."

Hope shoved her way through the small group, heading for the door. As the door slammed shut behind her, she took Alaric's keys out of her skirt and got into the Jeep, starting the car before anyone could notice and speeding out of the Salvatore School's driveway.

"Siri," Hope called out to her phone. "Text Angel 'I'm on my way.'"


	6. carnival games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date between Hope Mikaelson and Angel Nguyen doesn't go according to plan.

Let it be known that Hope Mikaelson did not enjoy interacting with strangers. Perhaps it was something she'd gotten from her father; but she was currently sitting on a bench in front of the carousel, watching little children interacting with their parents, laughing and enjoying themselves, and she could not have felt more out of place. She wanted to tell those children to cherish their parents, because not everyone was so fortunate.

'Hey, sorry I'm running a little late. I had an argument with my parents. Tell you more about it later.' Angel had sent her. 'I'm at the ticket booth right now.'

Hope raised her eyebrows at the text message. Maybe her parents knew about the supernaturals, and that was the reason that they'd moved into Statera. It would've made sense for the town to spelled, but it would have had to be by a powerful witch, and there was nothing in supernatural history that pointed to one that cared enough to protect such a small town.

She shook her head, trying to get the thought out of her mind. She hadn't been able to make many friends up until now. It was impossible in a school filled with supernaturals. Despite the immortality that came with vampirism, and the defensive magic that came with being a witch, there would always be double the danger. Double the chances that they would eventually die.

A little girl climbed off the carousel and ran to her mother as the ride came to a stop. The mother immediately picked her up and held her close, laughing as she did so. For a moment, she could see her mother. Beautiful, tall Hayley Marshall, with olive skin and green eyes, soft brown hair that fell in waves down her shoulders, always ready to be braided by Hope whenever she asked.

Her mother had been a hybrid. The queen of a crescent wolf pack, whose life was tied to no Original vampire, who could only be killed if her heart had been ripped out of her chest. She was supposed to be immortal.

Hope clenched her jaw and sharply turned away, nails digging into the palms of her hands. A burning sensation began to overtake her throat as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. This was stupid. What did she think she was going to achieve by doing this? She wasn't going to bring her mom back. She wasn't going to bring anybody back. This wouldn't change anything --

"Hey!" A hand clamped around her shoulder and spun her around. Hope immediately bared her teeth at the attacker and went to fight back, only to come face-to-face with the flawless smile of Angel Nguyen.

A deep raspberry shade had been applied onto her lips, as if she'd sipped on a glass of red wine before she arrived. It brought out her eyes, though they quickly filled with worry. "What's wrong?"

Hope opened her mouth to speak, mouthing words and fighting with her voice, trying to say something, anything. Show any signal at all that she just couldn't be here. She could feel her blood beginning to boil, magic flowing through her body and crawling towards her fingertips.

Childish as it sounded, she wanted her mom. She knew how to calm her down whenever she was like this, panicking and crying. She always knew what to say, just what to do to make everything better. She was the best mom Hope could've asked for.

And she killed her.

Angel took over the situation, guiding Hope away from the crowd and into a quiet area behind the rides. She whispered calming words to Hope as she brought her away, but it looked as if Hope wasn't even listening. As if she'd escaped into her own head, her eyes glazed over as Angel tried to bring her back to reality.

"Hey, Hope." Angel spoke softly, taking hold of Hope's icy hands and warming them in her own. "Look at me, okay? You're all right, you're going to be okay. Whatever you're feeling right now isn't permanent. Just breathe, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"I'm sorry, I don't want to burden you with this," Hope breathed out. "You can leave it you want. I don't..."

"With all due respect, I'm not leaving you like this," The silver-haired girl protested. She pulled a water bottle out of her purse, putting her shirt cloth over the top and twisting it before handing it to Hope. "Here."

It should've felt weird crying in front of someone that she barely knew. She'd only ever been this vulnerable around her aunt, Freya; but that was two years ago. It was difficult to name the last time she'd cried. She didn't have the time.

But it was frustrating. Eventually, she'd have to explain why she was crying. Tell her about the world she came from, and she won't even have the ability to compel her to forget.

Needless to say, she felt like an idiot.

After a few moments, Hope's breathing had gone back to normal. Angel took the water bottle from her and put it in her back, glancing up at the redhead in concern. "Are you feeling any better? You don't have to tell me what happened. I just... want to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm feeling better," Hope murmured under her breath. She stared down at her hands, refusing to aske eye contact with the girl in front of her. "Thank you."

"It's no problem." Angel picked herself up off the ground, brushing the dirt from her flannel skirt and taking a seat next to Hope. She placed her hand on her back, softly, as though she were afraid Hope would crumble beneath her touch. "I get it if you want to go home. I know it can be pretty emotionally exhausting having to deal with a panic attack like that."

Hope shifted in her seat, twiddling with her nails and resisting the urge to pluck off the layer of top coat she'd placed over her bear nail. "I don't. I want to stay. I just had a moment."

The human girl frowned in response. "You need rest."

"This is rest," Hope insisted, finally meeting eyes with the sweet girl she'd finally gotten the chance to spend time with. "Trust me."

She got up, walking in the direction of the lights and carnival games. Angel took a deep breath, running her sweaty palms over the ends of her skirt. "I'm trying to."

-

The carnival games, as expected, were easy as hell -- on Hope's side, that is. The two girls approached a man who was screaming at passing teenagers, trying to get them to play his game. At one point, he'd even gone as far as calling a kid 'Jew fro.'

Hope approached the game with a glint in her eyes, scanning the prizes behind him. Angel trailed behind her, eyebrows furrowed as she tried to decipher what the hell Hope thought she was doing. The auburn-haired girl's eyes finally landed on a prize and she spoke up, tearing the man's attention from a couple walking past.

"I'll play your game." She handed him five dollars, ignoring his remarks as she grabbed the bb gun from its station and lifted it up to her level. Angel took a step forward, watching as all remnants of emotion disappeared from Hope's face. She had the exterior of a soldier, eyes filled with a discipline and focus she'd never seen on anyone else.

The object of the game was to shoot at a small piece of paper with a red target on it. You won by making sure there weren't any traces of red ink left on the paper. Angel poker-faced and went to rest her hand on Hope's forearm. Before she could go to wish her luck, Hope was firing at the paper at a million miles a minute.

Once the gun had run out of bullets, Hope set it down and looked at the game runner expectantly. He smirked and pulled on a thin piece of string, bringing the piece of paper forward. As he unhooked the piece of paper and brought it to his face, a mischievous grin made it's way across Hope's face.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me." Hope held her hand out.

The game runner turned around, going to grab a small yellow bear from the rack.

"I don't want that one," She stated. Her eyes fell back to the prize she'd decided on before. She pointed to a large blue bunny at the tallest rack. "I want him."

As he turned to grab a tool, Angel stepped forward. "How the hell did you do that?"

Hope shrugged in response, giving her an award-winning smile. "My mom taught me how to shoot when I was younger." The game runner handed Hope the bunny and she held it out to Angel, a soft smile on her face as she did so. "For you. I figure any girl crazy enough to go on a date with me deserves something to help her get through the night."

"I never said this was a date." Angel joked lightly. She trailed her hand down Hope's arm, intertwining their fingers. Hope rested her head on Angel's shoulder. "Hey, I'm sorry for being late again."

"It's fine." Hope shook her head, rosy lips forming a soft smile. "I would've been a little late too. My headmaster's been kind of dramatic."

Angel sighed, thinking back to the argument that happened less than two hours ago. "I know what you mean. My parents threw a fit when I told them I was going out of town."

"How'd you get put of the house?"

She shrugged. "I snuck out."

"Hm," Hope murmured. "You know, your parents are probably just worried about you. Leaving town to go meet a stranger you met online. I could be a serial killer."

"As far as I'm concerned, the only thing you're good at killing, is a piece of paper," Angel chuckled. "Your parents know you're here?"

"My parents are dead."

Angel looked down. "Fuck. I'm sorry, I didn't--"

"I know," Hope acknowledged. "I just.. I figured that was something you should know about me. I don't want you to think I'm, like, this rich girl from Mystic Falls with a perfect family and a cute golden retriever. 'Cause I'm not. I never had that."

"Can I ask?" She asked carefully, not wanting to trigger her any further. "It's all right if you say no."

"No, you can ask. I'm fine." Hope insisted. "They passed away two years ago, I think. I was fourteen."

"Was it an accident?"

"No," Hope gulped. The memories began to flash through her mind. Her mother's screams as her werewolf gene was stripped from her, and the fear that overcame her when she realized that only one of them was going to get out alive. Hope's eyes flashed open. "My mother was murdered. And my dad" --she could remember the last argument she had with her father.

The way they'd screamed at each other, and the way her Uncle Kol had to stop her from trying to chase after him-- "My father and Uncle Elijah passed away a month afterward."

Before she realized what was happening, Angel had wrapped her arms around Hope, holding her close to her chest. "I'm really sorry that happened to you. You didn't deserve that."

A female's voice cut through the intimate silence, completely tearing the two girl's attention from each other. "Apologies, girls, but I'm going to have to cut the moment short. One of you is needed by your dear Auntie Beks."

They turned to face the speaker, and Hope's breath was caught in her chest as she came face-to-face with a tall blonde woman, with pale freckled skin and eyes reminiscent of crystal blue waters. She gulped, the words finally leaving her mouth: "Hi, Aunt Rebekah."


	7. discipline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the one thing scarier than an angry Mikaelson? Two angry Mikaelsons.

"DO YOU WANT TO explain what you're doing outside of school?" Rebekah questioned as the three girls entered a small motel room. She set her things down on the nearest bed and approached Hope, arms crossed over her chest.

Hope's eyes wandered away, almost refusing to look at her aunt's disappointed glare. "I was just going on a date."

"Hope, you can't just throw a temper tantrum and commit grand theft auto every time you want to meet up with your newfound lover. This isn't a romance novel." Rebekah glances at the young girl standing by the door, whom Rebekah had compelled to remain calm.

It was odd. They were all the same age, appearance-wise. Rebekah was sixteen, nearly seventeen, when was turned into a vampire by her mother. That had been a thousand years ago, when the Vikings had taken over American land and proclaimed it the New World. Her appearance had stayed true to the day she was turned. Her shiny blonde hair had never faded to gray, her pale freckled skin never wrinkling, her crystal blue eyes never wisening.

So many years alive, yet nothing to show for it but a few supernatural abilities and the ache that came with the death of her brothers. Ones whom she'd once promised "always and forever" to, still wrapped in the idea that they were immortal.

The silver-haired girl standing before her was human. Her porcelain cheeks were lightly flushed, likely due to a mixture of the chilly wind and Rebekah's red convertible. Her heart was beating quickly as she avoided eye contact with Rebekah. Understandable, considering it seemed as though the two Mikaelsons had just kidnapped the poor girl.

"Well, now, don't be afraid, little bird." Rebekah took a step forward, brushing a stray hair from the girl's face and tucking it behind her ear. "I'll simply have a stern talking to with my niece, and we'll send you on your merry way."

"You're not compelling her, are you?" Hope asked nervously, following Rebekah as she went to look through the bathroom of the motel room, checking to make sure that everything was in order. "Aunt Rebekah, you can't."

It stung a bit knowing that Rebekah would be the one giving Hope a stern talking to regarding her first real relationship. Niklaus had always been more experienced with those -- he'd managed to kill several of the suitors that had chased after Rebekah throughout the years. She'd hated him for it, it's true, but Klaus had had the right intentions -- regardless of how poorly he'd carried them out.

Rebekah didn't wish to raise Hope as her own daughter. To discipline her and compel away the memories of a girl she'd clearly come to fancy; but what choice did she have? Kol and Davina were halfway across the world, and although Kol meant well, he wouldn't be able to provide the same patience and discipline that Hayley and Niklaus would have given her. Rather, his first instinct would have been to congratulate Hope for the mess she'd made, followed by a visit to the nearest theme park.

Freya, although she'd chosen to remain in New Orleans -- the closest thing Hope had ever gotten to a home -- had her own family to stand with. A son, named in honor of Niklaus, of whom shared the blood of two powerful witches and a werewolf.

The Mikaelson bloodline would remain supernatural for the upcoming generation, and for generations after that. The magic of the Original witch, the blood that carrys the werewolf gene -- with great power came great danger. Hope would know several heartbreaks before she found the one she would be with forever. This would have to be one of those several.

"You can't be with a human girl," Rebekah argued, taking a step towards the stubborn tribrid. "Don't you understand how foolish that is?'

Hope shifted her weight. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it bloody matters, Hope," Rebekah spat. She could see all of the boys Nik had taken from her. Drained of blood or thrown from great heights -- he always did fancy spontaneity -- in order to protect her. "You're a Mikaelson. An Original. You can't afford to love someone so vulnerable."

"I can't afford to be vulnerable," Hope hissed. "Everyone I love dies so long as I accept that I'm an Original. Maybe I don't want to be an Original."

"Hope!" The blonde vampire rested her arms on Hope's shoulders. "Listen to me, all right. I know as well as you how hard it is to be a supernatural creature. I understand how badly you want to be human, but you can't put your heart on the line purely to live out a fantasy in which you are human. You're not."

The young witch's eyes lit with flames. She took a step forward and for a moment, Rebekah could have sworn she'd seen Nik's face. "You're not my mother. You can't tell me how to live my life."

"Then who will?" She raised her eyebrows. She turned, heading towards the young girl standing by the door. They locked eyes as Rebekah began to compel her to forget. Forget everything that she'd seen or heard, and that Hope had never shown up to their date, and her best bet was to forget that Hope Marshall ever existed.

It'd be best to keep as much of her memory as possible. She'd likely told her friends about Hope, and it would create lapses in her memory if she had a date with a girl she didn't remember, at a place she'd seemingly forgotten.

She followed the compulsion by suggesting that Angel call a friend to pick her up.

"We can't even drop her back off at the fair?" Hope snapped, her teeth gritted together in anger. "Or even at her house? She could get hurt."

"You weren't worrying about her safety when you brought her into our world," Rebekah growled. It hurt a bit. She wanted to protect both of the girls, not just Hope. For a moment she could look at the young girl, and see a bit of herself. Vulnerable, young, naive. Completely unaware of the monsters that lurked in the shadows. Sure that she would live the rest of her life human.

The girl had a right to be human. No one could take that away from her.

"What's your name, love?" Rebekah asked after a moment.

"Angel," The girl responded calmly. It was almost robotic. "Angel Nguyen."

Rebekah nodded after a moment. "Vietnamese ancestry, Americanized first name. Interesting. Were your parents first generation immigrants?"

"I... " The girl blinked, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "I'm not sure. They always speak fondly of Vietnam, but they've never shown me any pictures of them there. Just pictures of the villages in black and white."

Hope took a step forward. "Angel, you said you've never been more than an hour outside of Statera. That you've never even stayed out of Statera for longer than an hour. Have your parents?"

Angel's heart rate increased. "I don't know."

"Are you lying?" Rebekah questioned, crossing her arms. "Tell us the truth, Angel."

"I am," She responded, beginning to panic as she realized the situation around her. It was as though the compulsion had worn off completely. "Please don't hurt me."

"Wait," Hope paused. "Angel, you said you're from Vietnam, right?" Angel nodded in response, and Hope continued. "And you've never been outside of Statera for longer than an hour." The young human continued to agree, until Hope came to her conclusion. "What happens if you stay outside for too long?"

As if on cue, there was a bang on the door. Rebekah glanced at the time, only to realize it had been an hour since she'd picked Angel and Hope up from the fair. Quickly, she grabbed hold of Angel's wrist and pulled the girl behind her. Her heart began to race as the door began to shake, the hinges weakening with each hit.

'A wolf. A hybrid. Mikael.' The Originals thoughts drowned her, her mind separating from her body for a few moments. It was as though she'd floated away for a few moments.

Hope pushed past her aunt and muttered a spell under her breath. The dresser flew towards the door, blocking it from opening. "It'll hold it, but not for long. We have to find a way to get out of here."

"Can you do that thing from Wizards of Waverly Place where you flash us to a different location?" Angel asked, oddly calm. "That would work, right?"

"Not how magic works," Hope responded, only slightly amused. She pulled on Rebekah's jacket as she and Angel ran into the bathroom, likely searching for a window. Rebekah took a few moments to herself before she saw part of the door burst amount, only the arm of a seemingly human man trying to push its way into the room.

Rebekah turned, breaking off a piece of the dresser and throwing it in the direction of the monster's arm. She watched as it impaled its wrist, but continued to push it's way in, as if nothing had happened.

"There's no window!" Hope yelled as she returned from the back of the motel room. "What do we do?"

The three girls watched, paralyzed with horror, as the hinges of the door gave in and the monster pushed its way into the motel room. It looked nothing like a human, but rather, a deformed creature. Its limbs were decomposed, peeling as if it were that of a zombie. The body, impaled with swords, arrows and ancient weaponry -- created before even the dawn of the Original vampires -- moved as though it felt none of it.

Immune to physical pain, to blockades, to even something as obvious as death itself. A monster with no ability to die, and no way to be stopped.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Hope whispered under her breath. "I've read about these. Foetoribus Careat. Latin for 'unsullied.'"

Rebekah raised her eyebrows at her niece. "And what the bloody hell are we supposed to do with that?"

"I don't know," She admitted, taking steps back as it fought its way through the blockade of dressers. "They're supposed to be extinct. They haven't been seen in centuries. They were made to protect people living inside the cities of Indo... China."

Angel. It wanted Angel. The teenage girl who'd done absolutely nothing, who was seemingly protected from the supernatural world, was being hunted by a mindless, immortal corpse. And by an unsullied monster.

"So it wants the girl," Rebekah stated. "It was meant to protect her. Maybe it won't harm her."

"He doesn't look very harmless!" Hope yelled, pushing Angel further behind her. "Look, maybe we could take her to the Salvatore School. Maybe we could protect her."

"That's not an option, Hope, that means endangering the lives of more innocent supernatural teenagers -- all of whom are not protected by this stupefied corpse." Rebekah grabbed a lamp and through it at the monster, watching as the glass shattered and pierced through its arm. Still, no blood, no sign of weakness. "Our best bet is to let it take her. At the end of the day, it's protecting her, right?"

"She didn't obey their commands. They might kill her to punish her!"

"Well, sometimes teenagers have to learn some bloody discipli--" The monster reached for the blonde vampire's throat, wrapping its fingers around her neck and squeezing. Rebekah felt the air leaving her lungs, followed by a burning sensation as she began to lose air. Vampirism didn't protect you from the death that came with a mortal body. She clawed at its hand, feeling its flesh tear off as she did so, but it was no use.

Seconds passed, and it felt like centuries as her senses were consumed by darkness.


	8. to be a mikaelson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope Mikaelson's survivor's guilt is worse than she thought.

"SHE'S GONE." HOPE PACED across the room, her heart racing as she imagined what possible circumstances she had just put Angel in. She'd tried to fight against the monster, but regardless of what she did, it seemed as though nothing she did affected him. He was immune to every spell. Everything she did only served to exhaust her and stall him.

Unfortunately, Aunt Rebekah hadn't managed to compel Angel to stop acting calm. She'd simply stood there, quiet and accepting of what was happening in front of her. As if she'd known that the creature wasn't going to harm her. Hope had continued fighting after Rebekah had 'died,' but it was no use. He had managed to throw her across the room while she was doing a spell. By the time she had come to, Angel was gone, and the monster had gone with her.

There was a time when death was an unfamiliar concept to Originals. Hope's father, Klaus, had always gone out of his way to make it known that the Mikaelsons were immortal -- ironic, really. Simple death like the snapping of a neck or drowning, something that would usually kill an ordinary human being, would be an untimely nap for an Original vampire. As would a stake in the heart, or a beheading -- things that would ordinarily kill a regular vampire.

To be an Original was to be immortal. Though it seemed that even immortal beings can find a way to die eventually.

It had been about two or three hours since Aunt Rebekah's 'death.' She would be awake soon enough, and they would be able to search for Angel. Unfortunately, that would mean heading straight toward Statera, and the lack of supernatural beings in the town seemed to suggest some sort of magical border.

Or magical blockade of Unsullied Soldiers that would kill whatever supernatural being tried to enter the territory; but what was the difference?

A light began to glow from inside Rebekah's pocket. Hope sighed, reaching over and pulling the phone out of her pocket. She raised her eyebrows at the 'Salvatore School' contact name. How often did they reach out to Rebekah regarding Hope's grades or absences? Honestly, she was surprised that she had any emergency contacts left. Lately it seemed as though Dr. Saltzman was all she had in terms of an adult figure, though Josie and Lizzie were making that relationship particularly hard.

"Don't answer my phone," Rebekah choked out, weakly gasping for air. She held her hand out. "Give it to me. I don't trust you using a phone to speak to anyone except your Aunt Freya from now on."

Hope sighed, begrudgingly handing the phone back. "You just came back from the dead. Do you really think you're in the mood to be speaking to Dr. Saltzman right now?"

"Trust me, darling, we go way back." Rebekah slid the call button, holding the phone up to her ear. "Rebekah Mikaelson speaking... Yes, I have Hope with me right now... What's happening with that map?"

It was easy to forget that her own aunt had been a student of Dr. Saltzman's at one point. Hope sighed, reaching into her pocket for her own phone. Admittedly, she wasn't supposed to have one, but Uncle Kol had always enjoyed bending the rules.

"Yes, I understand," Rebekah responded. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

As Rebekah went to hang up the phone, Hope looked up. "I have to go back to the school, don't I?"

"Well, grand theft auto isn't as bad as turning a werewolf into a hybrid -- so yes, you'll be going back to your regularly scheduled classes," Rebekah responded. She reached for her purse before noticing the disappointed look on Hope's face. "What's wrong? When you were younger, all you wished for was to go to a school for supernaturals. Your father didn't donate three million dollars to the school out of the goodness of his heart."

Hope simply shrugged in response. "All I 'wished for,' was to have friends that knew what I was going through; but no one does. I thought I wanted to be surrounded by supernaturals because it would be where I fit in the most; but ever since Mom died, it's like I would give anything to be human for a day."

"Being a human doesn't protect you from death, love," Rebekah whispered, running a hand through Hope's auburn waves. Only a few shades darker than that of Rebekah's late mother, Esther. The Original Witch -- before she'd tried to slaughter half her family.

"My mom died because she was a hybrid. My father and my uncle died because they had to get rid of a supernatural being called the Hollow that had been preying on me since I was seven years old. Those aren't issues that normal humans go through, Aunt Rebekah." Hope swallowed back tears, stinging at the burning sensation of doing so. She pushed herself off the bed to avoid crying for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. "Let's go."

The ride back to Salvatore School was relatively silent if you didn't count the blaring Frank Sinatra music. Rebekah always said she never enjoyed modern day radio; likely due to the ninety year nap Hope's father had forced her into in the 1920's.

Hope bit her lip, scrolling through Instagram and waiting for a post from Angel's account. Any sign that she was alive and not eaten by the rabid beast that was all she could hope for at the moment -- she would even be glad if she found out that Angel had blocked her. A sign that Hope hadn't been the cause of another person's death.

'Due to her often disastrous past, she has resigned herself to isolation, considering it the path that will provide the least heartbreak in her life. She sees loneliness as less of a burden... than her formative experiences of loving so deeply and losing so terribly.'

A direct quote from her psychological assessments from earlier this year. Dr. Saltzman had the students do one at the beginning of every school year. This was the first time she'd managed to prove the files wrong.

"Is this the part where I apologize?" Hope raised her eyebrows, eyes flitting over to see her aunt's reaction.

"Hope, I was friends with your mother. She knew what it meant to apologize when she knew she was wrong," Rebekah responded, not taking her eyes off the road. "I would hope you didn't learn how to apologize from your father."

"How could I?" She muttered in response, despite knowing very well that Rebekah had supernatural hearing. "He died when I was fourteen and he only spoke to me for two years of my life."

"Your father never learned what it meant to love someone unconditionally." Rebekah seemed to spit the words out as if they were poison. For a brief moment, Rebekah's eyes become glassy, the street lights highlighting her tears.

Hope dropped the conversation before it became it became more intense. Unlike the rest of her family members, Rebekah had always been the person who defended Klaus in Hope's presence. Kol and Davina had never held back when it came to insulting him -- and though Hope couldn't blame them, that didn't mean she was happy about it.

As the gates of the Salvatore School began to open, Hope braced herself for the the endless judgement that came with what she had done. Even stepping inside of the school made her feel as though she were trespassing, entering somewhere she never felt like she belonged.

The Salvatore School: a school for witches, werewolves, and vampires, yet couldn't fit in a tribrid. On paper, it would've made sense.

The two girls were immediately greeted with Dr. Saltzman, his daughters, Raphael, and Kaleb. The diversity in greetings was almost comedic. Dr. Saltzman looked largely disappointed, and slightly shocked by Rebekah's presence. Clearly whatever past they had was complicated, to say the least.

As if reading Hope's mind, Dr. Saltzman stated, "You tried to kill me."

"Your friends killed my brothers and your attempts on Nik and Elijah's life were innumerable. I'm here for Hope's protection, not yours." Rebekah spat, almost disgusted by Dr. Saltzman's reaction. "I will apologize for nothing."

Josie stepped forward, shocked. "You tried to kill my dad?"

"Succeeded, really," Rebekah shrugged. An amused look comes to her face as Josie steps in front of her father protectively. "Love, please. All of my brothers are dead -- rest in peace -- and I am a step closer to becoming human. What would I gain from murdering this poor old man?"

"You're Rebekah Mikaelson," Kaleb stepped forward in awe. "I've read about you in the books -- you and your brother. You guys are, like, the founding fathers of vampirism. Why would you want to become human?"

A sad look crosses Rebekah's face, though it disappears as quickly as it comes. Before she can respond to Kaleb's school boy crush, Lizzie scoffs. "Really? So we're just gonna let Hope off the hook after she literally almost exposed an entire school for supernatural? All because she brought her stupid aunt."

Hope's eyes began to glow gold, signaling her werewolf gene to step forward. She flashed them at Lizzie as she took a step forward. "Don't say that about my family."

"Guys, we have bigger issues to deal with right now," Raphael pointed out. He walked back the map, pointing toward the town Angel and Hope had met at. "I was watching the map earlier. Trying to figure out what was going on, and what those spots were. I saw a really bright light" -- he glanced up at Hope. The stronger the supernatural abilities, the brighter the light -- " leave Mystic Falls and head to this town. A couple hours later, I saw one of the darkened areas leave the border of Statera and followed you, Hope."

"It wasn't following me. It was following Angel," Hope explained.

"Yes, Kol, I was sure to check that she was human," Rebekah said into her phone. After a moment, she sighed, setting the phone on the table and turning the camera on. A group video chat appeared and Rebekah turned the camera to face Hope. "Say hello to your niece."

She turned her head to see the faces of her Aunt Davina, Aunt Freya and Uncle Kol. Hope's last living family members. She raised her eyebrows to greet them, putting on a tight smile. "Hi, everyone."

"There's our little troublemaker," Kol greeted. "Now, tell me, how exactly did you meet this girl? And why a human? There's always so dramatic."

"Don't mind him, Kol's just saying that because he eats every human he comes into contact with," Rebekah muttered. She turned to Hope for a brief moment. "It's one of the reasons Davina's died so many times."

"That was a fault of a hex, not I," He argued. "And if we're keeping track of dead body counts, exactly how many men did our befallen Niklaus kill on your behalf?"

Hope flinched at the mention of her father. "Her name was Angel. I met her through Instagram, I used the location tags."

Part of Hope felt guilty that Aunt Davina even had to hear this story. She had told Hope stories about a boy named Tim, who she'd met when she was around fifteen; a boy who Hope's father had killed because she had had the nerve to stand up to him. Davina had once told Hope that she regretted ever reaching out to Tim again -- how if she had just avoided going to one of his concerts in the French Quarter, he might've survived.

Yes, Hope had heard all of the horror stories that came with falling in love with a human; for a brief moment, she didn't care. All she wanted was to feel normal for once. To have someone that didn't look at her like a freak. The tribrid; the daughter of Klaus Mikaelson; granddaughter of the Original witch; the girl who was destined to never fit in, no matter how hard she tried.

"Would it be fair to consider her human?" Freya questioned, "If she's being protected by this creature, she may descend from witches."

"If there were supernaturals living in Statera, the map would've shown us," Hope responded. She bit her lip, staring down at the map and tracing the dark border that had grown, surrounding Statera and making it that of a fortress.

Lizzie shrugged. "Or you could've messed up the spell."

"This spell has worked every other time we've needed to track down a new recruit. Why would it be an issue now?" Hope sighed, covering her face. "Look, do you guys remember the Vietnamese legend about the Unsullied? The supernatural guards who were supposed to protect their people during the Dark Ages? It said that they disappeared, but their owners left on boats, right? Maybe they came here."

"But why Virginia?" Davina questioned. "If they wanted to protect their families from armies and supernatural species, why choose a town an hour away from the birthplace of the Original vampires? Why choose a place so close to the water that it could be attacked without a moments hesitation?"

"The logistics don't matter right now," Josie pointed out. "What matters is that we need to go to Statera and see what's going on."

"What? And risk your lives?" Rebekah raised her eyebrows. "No. My niece is not going to fight one of those beasts again."

"We kind of don't have a choice," Hope hissed. "I need to know she's still alive."

Kol cut in, his voice cold and harsh. "Hope. Your survivor's guilt is not an excuse for putting yourself in harm's way."

"Didn't we kill you?" Dr. Saltzman murmured before shaking his head. "Hope's right. Statera is an hour away from Salvatore School. We need to make sure we know what's going on there, and whether or not those monsters are a threat to us."

Lizzie scoffed. "Yeah, let's all listen to Hope. The reason we're in this position in the first place."

Hope grabbed the phone and hung up before her family members could retaliate. Rebekah bared her fangs at the blonde witch, as if daring her to keep going. Hope reached into her pocket, grabbing Dr. Saltzman's car keys, throwing them in his direction.

"Enough with the family drama. Let's go."


End file.
